


my heart softens to your name

by MermaidMarie



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Apocalypse? What Apocalypse?, F/F, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, everything is fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23006236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidMarie/pseuds/MermaidMarie
Summary: In which Georgie takes Melanie to therapy and they spend some time together and everything is more or less okay.
Relationships: Georgie Barker/Melanie King
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	my heart softens to your name

**Author's Note:**

> I just really love these girls and they deserve some soft moments together.   
> Title from Please by Noah Kahan.

Georgie’s involvement with all of Jon’s nonsense was tangential at best, and she really didn’t want to get any deeper into the story than she already was. It was clearly dangerous, and it was clearly hurting everyone it touched. The entire length of Jon’s stay in her apartment, he had bags under his eyes and Georgie saw his hands shake. He was, charitably, a complete wreck.

She really did wish she could’ve done more to help him, but you could only help someone who was receptive to the concept. The fact of the matter was that Jon was tangled in a web that Georgie could barely comprehend, let alone begin to unravel. Jon was her friend; of _course_ he was. She would always care about him. But she couldn’t stick around and watch him destroy himself.

If that had been all, then her connection to the Archives could’ve been severed and she never would’ve had to think of that place ever again. Frankly, that might’ve been for the best. Georgie didn’t exactly love the idea of getting tied to that place.

But there was, of course, the issue of Melanie King.

Maybe Jon was too far gone—maybe Georgie never had a chance to try and pull him out of the nightmare they were all wrapped up in. Maybe he was never going to be able to be saved, and she would have to accept that, as much as it hurt, as hard as it was.

But Melanie…

Melanie was trying. Melanie wanted to escape; she wanted to get out. She wanted to get _help._ Georgie didn’t know what the Archives did to a person, but she could certainly understand needing someone to hold your hand in a waiting room as you collected the courage to face your own pain.

They didn’t usually talk all that much on the drives. Melanie tended to be curled in on herself, a little sullen, and Georgie never wanted to push her. So she’d play soft music and pretend not to hear when Melanie sniffled in the passenger’s seat.

It was maybe the third time driving her that Melanie asked.

“Okay, I’ve seriously got to ask. _How?”_ Melanie said suddenly, abruptly.

Georgie froze, confused. Startled.

She glanced over. “How _what?”_

“ _How_ did you ever end up dating Jon?” Melanie said. She sounded like she was about to laugh.

God, Georgie wanted her to laugh.

“Alright, look—” Georgie started, taking a breath.

“I mean. Look, I like Jon. Really, I do. He’s my friend.” Melanie paused and Georgie saw how she was frowning like she was trying to figure something out. “At least… I mean, I think. I think we’re friends.”

Georgie recognized that hesitation. That fucking place— _The Magnus Institute._ It was isolating and disorienting and stifling. She couldn’t imagine how any of them could stand it, but she supposed none of them had much of a choice in the matter.

“You’re friends, I’m sure,” Georgie assured. “As much as Jon _has_ friends.”

Melanie snorted. “Well. I don’t suppose it matters. We’re co-hostages, at the very least.”

“That’s almost like friendship,” Georgie tried, her tone as light as she could manage.

Melanie didn’t laugh, but she offered the barest smile.

“Well, anyway,” she said, her voice a little softer. “Seriously. What happened? How did you two end up together?”

“Um, well…” Georgie said, unsure of where to begin.

How could she explain Jon and their relationship? She could see how someone could look at them now and wonder how they ever would’ve even considered each other, but it hadn’t always been like that. _Jon_ hadn’t always been… Well. He hadn’t always been the way he was now, in any case. When they’d met…

“We met in college,” Georgie said slowly. “I guess one does a lot of strange things in college, right?”

Which was, indeed, one way of putting it, though it was far from a real answer.

Melanie raised an eyebrow at her, obviously unimpressed.

“Right,” Georgie said with a slightly uncomfortable laugh. “Jon… He used to be… Well, alright, he was never exactly an—an _alluring_ guy, I suppose. I mean, you know him. He’s the same man I met.” She cut off there, a creeping realization on the back of her neck. Was he really? She remembered what it had been like when Jon woke up from that supernatural coma—was he _really_ the same man she’d known? How could she trust herself to tell the difference? “He’s still human enough. Isn’t he?”

What a remarkable sign of how much their lives had twisted, that Georgie’s question was genuine.

She knew Melanie wouldn’t lie to her. She sort of dreaded the answer. Georgie didn’t feel fear anymore, but the anticipation in this moment came close to what she remembered of it.

“He is,” Melanie confirmed, though she didn’t sound certain either. “I think. I mean. We’ve met other monsters. Jon is… different. From them.”

Georgie tried not to get stuck on Melanie’s use of the word _other_ there—including Jon under the umbrella of _monster._

As much as Jon had always been an abrasive man, hard to get along with, there’d never been a time before that coma that Georgie would’ve even considered the idea that he could be something close to _monstrous._

She shook it off as best she could. She couldn’t deal with that, not now.

“In any case,” she said, trying to keep the tension out of her tone. She focused her energy on Melanie’s initial question. “Jon and I met in university. And he was—is— _brilliant,_ y’know? That’s what got my attention. He wasn’t always friendly, and he wasn’t—well, charming. But he was smart. And he was kind. And we got on well enough in class.”

“I can’t picture Jon as a student,” Melanie said. “Feels like he just emerged fully-formed as this greying professor-looking type.”

Georgie snorted. “His hair was already greying in college,” she said.

Melanie, amazing, let out a breath of quiet laughter. “Oh, that figures, at least.”

“In any case, I was charmed by his abrupt comments,” Georgie said, relaxing into the memory a little bit. Jon always was fun to have in a class. No tolerance for anyone’s nonsense—he’d beat the professor to calling out a disruptive student or an inane comment. “I thought he was a little pretentious—full of himself, all that. But he was funny. And he was smart. And I just—” She shrugged, unsure of how to explain the draw. “I wanted to know more about him. He intrigued me.”

Georgie half-expected Melanie to laugh. She was sure Martin, at least, would understand the unique intrigue of Jonathan Sims, but she couldn’t very well expect anyone else to get it. Jon was, charitably, a unique man. He didn’t have the same effect on everyone.

But she saw Melanie tilting her head thoughtfully when she glanced over.

“I suppose I can see it,” Melanie said. She smiled a little, teasingly adding, “if I squint.”

“He’s a good man,” Georgie said, deciding firmly that she’d continue to believe it until she couldn’t anymore.

There was a pause, the soft music from the radio gently filling the car.

“Did you love him?” Melanie asked.

“Yeah,” Georgie admitted, frowning a little. “You know, I really did. Still do, I suppose, though not in the same way.”

“It must be hard,” Melanie said, “to see all this happen to him.”

Georgie drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. “Yes,” she said carefully. “It is.”

“I’m sorry.”

Melanie’s sincerity took Georgie by surprise a little bit. Georgie was certainly not expecting any sympathy here. Her role in all of this, all things considered, was not nearly as bad as it could’ve been.

She shot Melanie a tentative smile. “Thanks.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Melanie said, “I do think that Jon is trying. In his own way.”

Georgie nodded curtly. “I’m sure he is. He _always_ is.”

“Even if his _trying_ is so fully entrenched in the Archives,” Melanie added, a little less kindly.

“He has no business working there. None of you do.” Georgie didn’t really mean to say that—but it was the truth. They were _good_ people. They didn’t deserve to be trapped in that place. They didn’t deserve to be caught up in all this horrific business.

“Yeah, well,” Melanie said, her voice cracking a little.

Georgie tightened her grip on the steering wheel, suddenly fully desperate to lighten the mood. _Desperate_ to get that strain out of Melanie’s soft voice.

“None of you people are even a _little_ qualified for this,” Georgie said tersely. “I mean. What kind of archive are they running, that they haven’t hired anyone with a relevant degree?”

Finally, Melanie let out a genuine, light laugh, leaning forward a little bit. She looked a little surprised at herself. Georgie smiled, pleased.

“Right, I’m sure the evil overlords were _very_ concerned with qualifications,” Melanie said after catching her breath, the laughter still in her tone. “We simply must have people with master’s degrees in ghost stories and spooky happenings.”

“It would certainly help if at least _one_ person had a PhD in spookiness,” Georgie said. “Or, truly, if any of you knew how to run a library.”

Melanie just shook her head. “Yes, that’s the real problem with the Archives, isn’t it? Not enough qualified employees. Truly the most pressing issue in that place.”

“At the very least, it’s a place to _start,”_ Georgie said. “I mean. Honestly.”

Melanie laughed again, and Georgie fell in love with the sound.

Melanie usually wanted to just be taken home after therapy. It had only been a few times, but they’d already developed a bit of a routine about it. Georgie would come pick her up at the Archives, they’d drive over to Melanie’s therapist’s office, Georgie would read for an hour in the waiting room. Melanie would come out, seeming tired but a little less tense. Georgie would offer dinner. Melanie would softly refuse. Georgie would drive her home, they’d say by in the car, and that was that.

This time went a little differently.

Melanie came out of the office, her arms wrapped tightly around body, like she was trying to fold up into a smaller version of herself.

Her eyes were lined red like she’d been crying.

Georgie considered asking her about it, but Melanie was avoiding eye contact in a way that made it feel like she did _not_ want to discuss anything.

She just let Melanie follow her back out to the car in a strained silence. 

“How about some dinner?” Georgie offered as she opened Melanie’s door.

“Maybe,” Melanie said.

Georgie hesitated. It was the first time it hadn’t been a polite no.

“Maybe?” Georgie repeated hopefully.

“Um,” Melanie said. “Do you think that we… that we could just order some takeaway? Eat dinner at yours?”

Georgie softened immediately. “Of course,” she said. “What are you feeling like?”

Melanie offered a small, tentative shrug. “Anything works,” she said.

Georgie nodded. “Sure,” she replied. Another time, she might’ve tried to insist that Melanie offer some options, make some kind of decision for what she wanted. But she seemed so drained that Georgie didn’t want to add any small thing that might tip the scales.

Melanie had enough to deal with, really.

Georgie took them to a Chinese place on the way home. Melanie waited in the car as she went in and picked up an assortment of food for them. It’s possible she ordered too much, but she was hoping that a wide variety of options might make it more likely that Melanie would actually eat.

As Georgie led Melanie into her flat, she found herself thinking about how little she’d really had guests as of late. The last person who’d spent any significant amount of time there was Jon, when he was hiding out from the cops.

Georgie cleared her throat, ducking her head and quickly grabbing some scattered jackets and scarves that had been strewn carelessly over the couch.

“Sorry for the mess,” Georgie said.

Melanie snorted. “It’s neater than my place,” she replied.

“I don’t have guests very often,” Georgie explained anyway. She gathered the stacks of books that had accumulated on the coffee table and moved them over to the floor by the bookshelf. It wasn’t really messy, just cluttered. Her flat looked lived in.

Melanie seemed like she was hovering uncertainly by the door, like she was getting ready to be told she couldn’t stay.

“Come on, take your coat off,” Georgie said. “We can eat at the coffee table, yeah?”

“Oh, uh, sure,” Melanie mumbled. She hung her coat up by the door and toed off her shoes, leaving them carefully lined up. Georgie watched as she wrung her hands uncertainly.

Georgie paused, feeling the nervous energy between them. She hadn’t seen much of this side of Melanie.

She frowned, trying to get a handle on what Melanie needed.

“Um, do you—” she started, tentative. “I mean. Would you like to talk about… whatever happened?”

That question alone seemed to unravel the tension that had been lingering in the air.

Melanie let out a long, thin sigh. She ran a frustrated hand over her hair and headed over to the couch. She settled down, tucking her legs up into her chest, and Georgie felt like she was so much smaller than she’d ever realized.

“It’s just all _so much,_ you know?” Melanie said, glaring at the floor. “I mean. I know what happened to me—what I was turning into, or—or what I’d become. Jon did the right thing. I guess.”

Georgie headed over to her, taking a seat beside her on the couch. Just close enough that their knees were almost touching.

“It’s just that it felt like the anger was all I had. All I _was.”_ The admission was quiet, colored with a strange sort of regret about it.

It broke Georgie’s heart. “You’re so much more than that.”

Melanie shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to _do_ without it.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Georgie said, a quiet promise in it.

Melanie offered a bare smile. “I hope so.”

They chatted about nothing in particular as they ate, Georgie feeling the relief from the normalcy of it all. It was nice, she supposed, that they were still able to have these small human things without the enormous _other_ getting in the way.

It was nice to just be here, with Melanie, like they were friends, like they didn’t have anything else to deal with.

It was the sort of thing that Georgie was pretty sure she’d never be able to have again with Jon.

Georgie was relieved, too, that Melanie had plenty to eat. She made sure not to make it too obvious that she was paying close attention, but Melanie seemed to notice a little anyway, rolling her eyes at Georgie’s concern.

In any case, despite how much food Georgie had gotten, it seemed like there were barely any leftovers.

Melanie helped her clear up the containers and bring everything into the kitchen, consolidating the food that was left. She hummed as they cleaned, catching Melanie staring at her a few times.

When they were done, Melanie looked—

Well, she looked a little nervous actually.

Georgie leaned against the counter, giving her a questioning look.

“Something up?” she asked gently.

“Do you think I…” Melanie trailed off, looking away.

“What is it?” Georgie prompted.

“Could I stay here? Tonight?” Melanie blurted out, looking at Georgie with wide eyes. “Please? I can just take the couch, honest, and I’ll leave first thing in the morning if you like, I just—”

“Melanie—Melanie, it’s fine, of course you can stay here.”

Melanie looked relieved. “Really?”

“Of _course.”_ Georgie smiled, just glad Melanie was willing to ask at all. “I mean, the Admiral already likes you, so that would really be the only issue.”

As if to prove the point, the Admiral jumped up onto the counter and headbutted Melanie’s hand.

Melanie smiled, scratching the cat’s ear gently. “Well, I’m very glad he approves.”

Georgie shifted closer to her. “And you, um. You don’t have to take the couch. If you don’t want to.”

Melanie’s cheeks got pink and she kept her focus on the cat, purring and nuzzling against her.

“Oh,” she said softly.

“Only if you want to—”

“I do,” Melanie said quickly, glancing over and making very quick eye contact before looking away again.

As they settled into bed, they ended up lying very close, facing one another. Just barely getting past the strangeness of how simple this whole situation was—how, despite everything else going on in their lives, they were still able to have this soft, new thing.

Georgie thought a lot about Melanie’s eyes—the rich, dark brown of them, how they’d flit around Georgie’s face like she couldn’t settle on where to look, how her eyelashes curled and cast shadows over her irises. Georgie loved Melanie’s eyes. They were captivating.

_The moment that you die will feel exactly the same as this one—_

The whisper came gently, in the back of Georgie’s mind.

And she felt the End coming, like there was some finality to this moment. She couldn’t understand it. This felt more like a beginning—it might’ve been frightening, that lurking promise of the end of something.

Georgie pushed it away as best she could, refusing to indulge the sense of _the last moment_ of something.

Instead, she brushed the hair back from Melanie’s face, running a finger down her cheek, along her jaw. Melanie’s breath hitched, and before Georgie could think to do it herself, Melanie had leaned forward, kissing her decisively.

Georgie was caught off guard, just a little, but everything about this moment clicked into place perfectly in her mind. Melanie’s lips were soft, tasting faintly of honey and mint. Georgie’s eyes fluttered shut and she wrapped an arm over Melanie’s waist, pulling her closer.

They kissed just long enough to leave them both a little breathless. When Melanie pulled back, Georgie felt herself smiling.

Melanie rested her forehead against Georgie’s, letting out a soft sigh.

“Thank you,” Melanie whispered. “For everything.”

Georgie stroked Melanie’s hair back and planted another gentle kiss on her lips.

“Let’s just get to sleep,” she murmured.

Melanie nodded, just tucking herself even closer to Georgie, letting herself be held. Georgie drew slow circles along Melanie’s back with her fingers, allowing the warmth of the moment to settle in, allowing herself to believe that they could both get some real rest.

Right as Georgie began to doze, right as sleep began to pull at her, a gentle whisper came again—

_The moment that you die will feel exactly the same as this one._

As she drifted off, Georgie sent out a quiet hope to whatever might be listening in the universe.

_Let her be okay._

When Georgie got the call from the hospital, she was out the door before she could button up her coat, barely feeling the icy wind in her white-hot urgency.

She got there as fast as she possibly could, with little regard to the general rules of traffic. It was a small miracle she didn’t get a ticket.

She spoke to the nurse at the front desk with perhaps more accusation in her tone than the situation called for, but in her defense, Melanie _was_ lying in that building somewhere, hurt severely enough that it warranted a call.

Georgie barely understood any part of what was happening.

_Blinded herself?_ she thought, the anger and confusion swirling in her mind. She knew things were bad at the Archives, but—

When she finally got to the room Melanie was in, her heart fell. She had bandages wrapped around her head, covering whatever was left of her eyes.

“Oh, Melanie,” Georgie breathed.

Melanie jumped a little at the sound. “Georgie, I—”

Georgie walked over to the side of the bed, taking care to let her heels click against the floor so Melanie would know where she was.

“Christ. Are you—” _okay,_ Georgie wanted to ask, but the question died on her lips. The answer felt obvious. She settled into the chair beside the bed, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” Melanie said gently. “I know it scared you.”

“It more than _scared_ me,” Georgie replied. Whatever fear might’ve done if Georgie still had access to that paled in comparison to what she’d _actually_ felt when she got the call. And then again when she saw Melanie’s shape on that hospital bed. “I’m—I mean, Jesus, Melanie. I’m furious.”

“At me?” Melanie said, and she sounded…

_Small._

Georgie hated every person, every monster, every entity, that had put Melanie in a position where she felt that trapped.

“No,” Georgie assured, the fight leaving her in an instant. “No, of course not at you.”

“It was what I had to do.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Georgie asked carefully.

Melanie offered a wry smile. “What, shall I give you my _statement?”_

Georgie sighed, her heart twisting. “Melanie…”

“Sorry. I suppose it’s not very funny, is it?”

“It’s really not.”

“Jon told me—” Melanie’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “He found out there was a way out of the Archives. There was a way to quit.”

“This seems a little drastic,” Georgie said, studying the bandages.

“You don’t know what it was like, being trapped there.” Melanie inhaled sharply, her fingers curling against the thin hospital sheets. “This is worth it. It’s worth it to be free of that place. I did what I had to do. It’s that simple.”

Georgie slipped her hand into Melanie’s, squeezing lightly, noting how cold Melanie’s thin fingers were. She brought Melanie’s hand up to her face, kissing it gently.

“I wish there’d been another way.”

“There wasn’t.” Melanie squeezed Georgie’s hand back. “Anyway, I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse, yeah? This is nothing.”

Georgie felt an argument bubbling up— _It’s absolutely_ not _nothing—_ but she took a breath and let it slide. Melanie would be fine. She had to be.

At this point, Georgie memorized all the different ways Melanie liked her tea. It varied by time of day and by mood, and Georgie felt like she had a pretty good handle on all of the versions.

So she didn’t ask, she just pulled down the mismatched mugs as Melanie sat at the kitchen table, her hands folded in front of her.

“Thank you,” Melanie said. “For letting me stay here like this, I mean. We never even really _talked_ about moving in together, and I just… I want you to know that I appreciate it.”

Georgie glanced over at her, fondly. “I would’ve asked you to move in with me in a heartbeat, you know,” she said. “You certainly didn’t have to blind yourself for that.”

The joke came out a little awkwardly and Georgie found herself biting her lip.

Melanie let out a short laugh. “Damn, too late now,” she quipped back.

As Georgie waited for the electric kettle, she looked at the mugs. One was bright yellow with a cat on it and the other was white, the pink flower pattern fading from years of use. She supposed it didn’t really matter which one she gave to Melanie. The design wouldn’t really make a difference to her.

She put Melanie’s teabag into the yellow mug anyway, giving herself the faded one.

It was afternoon, a generally gloomy mood overall. So the comfort tea it was.

Decaf earl grey with two sugars and a splash of milk for Georgie, simple chamomile and honey for Melanie.

She finished preparing the tea and brought the mugs over to the table in silence.

She watched as Melanie curled her hands around the warmth of it, her thumb tracing the handle.

“So what now?” Melanie said, her voice shaky and small.

Georgie straightened up, taking a long breath. “Now we drink our tea and rest.”

“I meant, like, in general,” Melanie said. “What about…”

“I know what you meant.” Georgie reached over, placing a hand over Melanie’s wrist. “How about, for now, we’re done worrying about what comes next for the world? Who _cares?”_

Melanie half-smiled. “I guess we take it one day at a time, yeah?”

“Right. One day at a time.”

As far as Georgie was concerned, the world had shrunk to only this, only her and Melanie and the Admiral and the tea. For the moment, at least, nothing else needed to matter. They were going to be okay. Georgie decided as much.


End file.
